


let me cheer you on

by milkyflower



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cheerleaders, Crossdressing, Crying, Dacryphilia, M/M, Spanking, Teasing, Well - Freeform, cheerleader outfits, daichi thinks it's hot but he's also gonna kick his ass, suga ropes half the team in on his plan, suga seduces daichi, this is a normal thing for them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28388688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkyflower/pseuds/milkyflower
Summary: Suga's favourite past-time is riling his boyfriend up to the point that he get's his brains fucked out. His newest plan is the most convoluted yet, and requires the whole team to pull offOr the time I saw a twitter post and immediately started writing (post included because I live to serve)Update: I'm going to end up writing a chapter for each pairing
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	let me cheer you on

**Author's Note:**

> if you haven't seen [this](https://twitter.com/Lemin_Love/status/1341508966199734272) post from lemin_love on twitter (and tiktok), you're missing out, it's god tier  
> (hint: suga in a cheerleader outfit)

The topic comes up after their match against Shiratorizawa. 

“Did you see their cheerleaders?”

Daichi looks up from where he’s folded over into a stretch. 

“What?”

“Shiratorizawa. They had cheerleaders.”

Suga pouts prettily to punctuate his sentence. 

Daichi’s brows come down over his eyes in confusion, his arms stretch out in front of him as he bends further. Suga watches the movement hungrily. 

“Yes?”

Suga tosses his head back, leaning back until his spine pops, raising his arms above his head so his jersey rides up his torso. He doesn’t miss the way Daichi’s eyes catch along the strip of exposed skin. 

“Don’t you think it would be nice if Karasuno did?”

Daichi tilts his head, eyes rolling to the ceiling in thought. “I suppose. Maybe next year, once we’ve made a name for ourselves. Again.”

Suga’s pout twists into petulance. “Sawamura. We’ll be gone by then.”

Daichi whips his head to the side, eyes wide. Suga only calls him that in bed. 

His eyes narrow in the next second. “What are you thinking, you minx?”

Suga laughs lightly, stomach fluttering at the deep rumble of Daichi’s voice. “Hm. Well I’ve only just started thinking, so I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

Daichi pulls a leg in towards himself, pressing his knee to the floor to relieve the burn in his thigh. “Why does that scare me.”

Suga’s mouth curls into a wicked grin. “Because you know me too well.”

…

His idea fully forms by the end of the week, after a conversation with Shimizu. 

“Kiyoko, have you ever thought that Karasuno could use some cheerleaders for moral support?”

She doesn’t even look up from her clipboard, voice even and soft. “I’m not acting as a cheerleader for you all.”

Suga splutters, laughing in indignation. “That wasn’t what I was getting at!”

Of course, Suga thinks Shimizu is stunning, just as the rest of the team does, but the idea really hadn’t passed his mind. 

She looks up then, from her spot on the bench, eyes levelling on his face. “What are you getting at?”

Suga tugs at the bottom of his track jacket, slumping into the bench beside her with a sigh. “I don’t know! I saw the cheerleaders at our game with Shiratorizawa and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

She blinks languidly, humming softly. “Oh.”

Suga turns his head slightly. “Huh?”

Her mouth is curling at the edges slightly. “Just oh.”

He gasps lightly, “Wait! No, none of that. You have to let me know.”

Shimizu taps her pen against the clipboard softly. “Sugawara, I’ve known you for three years now.”

“Yes?”

She doesn’t turn, but her eyes are on him. “Do you remember last Halloween when Tanaka and Nishinoya dared you to dress up in a maid costume?”

Suga's cheeks instantly flame, but the heat is warm and welcome. “Oh.” He drags the sound out, light and bubbly. “Oh, yes, I remember that. Do you think?”

“Yes.” She doesn’t hesitate. 

Suga’s laughter bubbles up and over, spilling out of his mouth brightly. He must be too loud because practice stalls a bit, his teammates looking over to see who’s making so much noise. Daichi smiles to himself. 

Suga beams at them, eyes squinting shut as he tilts his head and waves. They return to spiking and receiving and he turns back to Shimizu. 

“So it’s that. Wonder why I didn’t figure that out myself.”

Shimizu’s secret smile grows just the slightest bit. “I’d assume Daichi clouded your thought process again.”

Suga’s smile turns smug. “Mm. I don’t mind that.”

Shimizu raises a brow. “I think you should go practice.”

Suga hops off the bench, snagging a stray volleyball that zooms by, probably from Hinata. 

“Thanks, Kiyoko!”

Tanaka and Noya glare at him across the net and he winks at them just to keep them on their toes. 

…

“Oi, Sugawara, you punk.”

Tanaka begins crowding him in the locker room, face tilted up and shadowed with a false sense of anger. 

“Tanaka.” His voice is pitched into happiness.

“Why were you laughing with Kiyoko, huh?”

Noya pops up behind him for backup, glaring at Suga intensely. 

“She gave me some relationship advice.” He smirks to himself. 

The two idiots gape at him, nonsensical words tripping in the air between them. 

“You!”

Noya is the one to step in, snapping at Suga like a small, angry dog. 

Daichi comes in halfway through their tantrum and Suga snags the front of his jersey to pull him into a hurried, wet kiss. He only pulls away when Daichi is breathless and the twin terrors are silent. 

He starts the process of changing into normal clothes with a satisfied hum and Noya is the first to break from the shell of shock. 

“I’d forgotten about that.”

Tanaka isn’t so easily swayed. “Then he shouldn’t be stealing Kiyoko’s precious time like that!”

Suga looks over his shoulder, batting his eyelashes dramatically. “Would you prefer I steal yours instead?”

Tanaka reels back with a laugh as Daichi sends Suga _that_ look. The one that says ‘watch yourself if you don’t want to regret it later’ that Suga always pushes to his limits. 

“How about you Noya?”

Noya would probably joke back if it weren’t for the jealous burn in Daichi’s eyes. “Suga,” He presses a hand to his chest, righteous. “I’m saving myself. I must decline your offer, my dear.”

Daichi turns to the lockers, slamming his open with a scowl, ripping his jersey off by pulling it over his head. Suga, admittedly, forgets his witty response in favour of staring at the rippling muscles in his back. 

Suga continues watching him, his regular shirt dangling from his fingers as he traces the smooth panes of his shoulder shifting beneath his tanned skin. He’s a bit annoyed that the scratches have healed. Like Suga’s claim on him has dissolved. 

He doesn’t realise Tanaka and Noya have been watching him, quickly changing with whispered snickers before leaving, until the locker room slams shut with a loud bang. 

His head whips towards the door, cheeks blazing. Daichi pretends he doesn’t notice they’re the only two in the room. 

“Daichi?”

Suga watches him turn, stomach boiling over with something hot and tight.

“Sugawara.”

Suga sucks in a breath at the heat in his tone, the one laced with fire and promises. It usually promises Suga‘s ass will be bright red by the end of the night and practice will be a bit of a bitch tomorrow.

He groans at the thought, equal parts please and excited, as he throws on his shirt. 

He hardly remembers to pick up his gym bag as Daichi finishes changing, hurried by Suga’s impatient whining and insistent hands, all of which only add to the simmering heat in Daichi’s eyes. 

“Just you wait, Koushi, I’ll have you-“

The promise tapers off into a hushed whisper as they exit, purred at Suga’s ear like a growl. 

His laugh slips into giggles, all too aware of his fate. He’s good at orchestrating things to go the way he wants. 

…

The next day when third hour ends Suga hurries to Hinata’s class before the live wire bounces off to lunch. He grins when he spots Noya in the doorway, most likely ready to harass the first-year about something. 

“Noya! Perfect. Grab Hinata and head to the gymnasium, I have to find Yamaguchi and-” He pauses, tapping his chin. “Hm. Maybe Ennoshita.”

Noya doesn’t hesitate to agree, hopping into the room with enough force to startle the skittish first-years. Suga leaves to the sound of his two loud teammates exchanging each other’s names, volume increasing with each returned greeting. He’s smiling, despite himself. 

Thankfully, Yamaguchi is quietly seated in his classroom when Suga finds him, turned around in his seat and leaning into Tsukishima’s space. 

Suga waves at him from the door with a smile. “Hi Yamaguchi! Will you join me and a few of the others in the gym?”

Tsukishima looks between them, mouth sinking into a frown. “Why do you need him?”

Suga winks, “If you’re really worried about why I’m not asking you to join, you can just admit it, Tsukishima!”

Tsukishima clicks his tongue indignantly, turning his head to stare out the window. “Like I’d care.”

Yamaguchi spills out an apology to his friend as he rises to leave, beaming. Suga watches the exchange fondly, noting the way Tsukishima’s face turns the slightest shade of red as Yamaguchi promises to miss him while he’s away. 

Suga doesn’t hesitate to dive right in with his idea once they’ve all arrived, aside from Ennoshita. He’d decided between Hinata’s classroom and Yamaguchi’s that Ennoshita would probably find the idea more embarrassing than anything. 

Hinata is practically bouncing in place, eyes darting to the supply closet holding the volleyballs like he’s wondering if he can make a break for it. Suga knows for a fact he carries a volleyball in his school bag, so the action is even more amusing than it should be. 

He claps his hands as he enters with Yamaguchi, waiting until everyone has settled into a small circle to reveal his plan, to mixed reactions. 

Hinata is, predictably, on board simply because he’s Hinata. Noya is picturing the way Asahi will blush, if Suga knows him like he thinks he does. Yamaguchi doesn’t form a coherent sentence for a full minute and blushes so much Suga is a tad worried. In the end he agrees rather vehemently once Noya goads him into defensiveness by asking if he’s that worried about what Tsukishima will think. 

Hinata leans forward so much Suga thinks he might topple over himself. “Why’d you wanna do this anyways, Suga-senpai?”

Noya starts snickering and he glares. “I think it would do you well to remember I have connections to the captain, Noya.”

Noya’s snickering turns into full-blown laughter. “That’s why I’m laughing!”

“I meant I’d make sure you’d be doing penalty laps!” He huffs. 

Hinata is looking between them with a bit of confusion but Yamaguchi, for all the innocence his sweet face portrays, has a knowing gleam in his eyes. 

Suga waves his hands in the air. “That’s not my point! Is everyone in?”

Looks are exchanged, raised eyebrows and half-smiles. In the end Suga has roped three of his teammates into his shenanigans. Ah, the things you do for love. And sex.

…

That, Suga purrs internally, is exactly what he had wanted. That near-feral look in Daichi’s eyes that says he’d like nothing more than to pull Suga close and bend him over in the middle of the gym, teammates be damned. 

The cheerleading uniforms had taken a few weeks to come in, much to his dismay, but it’s definitely worth it now. 

Suga has to look away, feigning innocence, to take note of the rest of the teams’ reaction. 

Tanaka is howling with laughter, tugging at the bottom of Noya’s shirt like he’s deciding whether he should be amused or confused. Poor Asahi is red from head to toe and looks seconds from passing out. Suga can’t tell if it’s firsthand or secondhand embarrassment. 

Kageyama is yelling derogatory statements at Hinata that mostly consist of the words idiot, moron, or dumbass. The subtle flush to his cheeks doesn’t fool Suga. 

Tsukishima had taken one look at them, laughed haughtily and then promptly choked when he spotted Yamaguchi, which Suga should _not_ find as amusing as he does. He’s supposed to be mature and set an example. 

The rest of the second-years had shuffled into the gym after the initial group, confused by the commotion. 

Suga throws his arm over Ennoshita’s shoulders. “Sorry Ennoshita, I was going to invite you into the cheer squad, but I figured you’d die of embarrassment.”

Ennoshita is staring at him with wide eyes, gaze flickering from the skirt to the expanse of skin exposed by the cropped top, and back. 

“I- well-”

His eyes dart over to Kinoshita, as if asking for help. 

Kinoshita shrugs, lips curling over his teeth. “I wouldn’t have complained.”

Suga snickers at the blush that rises on the second-year’s face. 

Narita seems wholly unaffected by the entire situation. 

Daichi is at his side then, hissing in his ear. Suga barely spares him a glance. 

“Not now, captain, it’s time to start practice! We’ve wasted enough time.”

Daichi looks ready to explode as Suga walks away, rounding up the gawking teenagers for a game. 

The ensuing practice game is actually pretty amusing. Hinata has all the awareness of a hyperactive dog. The fact that he’s wearing a skirt doesn’t seem to register in his brain, even when Kageyama yells at him every few minutes. 

“Boke, Hinata! Don’t- You can’t just-”

Ah. Poor, single-minded Kageyama. Suga’s never seen him so distracted. He set a ball straight to the ceiling at one point when Hinata went in for a fast attack and his skirt rode up so far the tiny shorts underneath did little to keep him decent. 

When the ball had hit the rafters Tsukishima had sneered and laughed. 

Noya had gone in for a receive in typical fashion, rolling thunder style, and hadn't accounted for his attire or the effect it would have on his surrounding teammates. Asahi in particular had been so stunned he hadn’t even had the thought to move. Noya rolled right into his legs, Asahi had come crashing down on Noya, sputtering and blushing so intensely Suga swore he could feel the heat across the court. 

Tsukishima and Yamaguchi had dissolved into mocking laughter, until Yamaguchi had collapsed into Tsukishima's side like he normally would and the blonde had nearly lost his composure. 

Narita won’t stop needling Ennoshita about how he should get a cheerleading outfit as well.

Practice is a total mess, and under it all Suga keeps a steady eye on Daichi, watching his calm facade slowly crack. Between staring when Suga sets or spikes and the deterioration of his team, Daichi is at a breaking point. 

It takes one carefully posed position, hands on his thighs and ass raised like he’s preparing to receive, for Daichi to snap. 

Hinata and Kageyama are starting in on each other again, with Kageyama much less coherent than usual, when Daichi interrupts. 

“Alright! That’s enough! This practice is a mess, we’re done. Everyone clean up and go home.”

The gym is silent for a moment before everyone starts moving, getting to work on rolling the ball cart into the storage closet and sweeping the floors. 

When everyone ends up shuffling into the locker room to change, whispering among themselves, Suga plants himself on the bench to the side. 

Daichi is standing in the middle of the court, feet planted and arms crossed. Suga admires the way his biceps bulge when he stands like that. 

Hinata and Kageyama almost try to beg for more practice time, but the look on Daichi’s face scares them out the doors in seconds. 

The metal doors slam shut with a note of finality and Suga shivers when Daichi stalks over to lock the doors. 

“So, captain. Is there a reason you kept me behind after practice? Have I been bad?” Suga purrs out the last sentence, rolling the words on his tongue like honey. 

Daichi turns to him, eyes sharp and blazing. He moves closer like a panther, dark and lithe, silently deadly. He stops in front of Suga, feet outside his own, and leans into his space. 

“You have.”

Suga can’t stop the way his breath leaves his mouth in a soft exhale, eyelids dropping. Daichi pinches the hem of his skirt between two fingers, rubbing his thumb over the seam gently. 

Suga watches the action with baited breath, lungs stuttered inside his chest, hitching on his next inhale. 

Daichi leans in further, moving his hands to brace on each side of the bench, just barely touching Suga. The contract is minuscule but the heat sears through him like twin brands. 

Warm lips brush against his ear and Suga realises he’s closed his eyes. 

“You know you were being bad, don’t you Koushi? That was your intention.”

Suga leans into him, eager for warmth, whining when Daichi pulls back enough to break the contact.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, shit, sorry.”

Daichi chuckles deeply without humour. “No you’re not.”

Suga’s eyes flutter open and he grins. “No, I’m not.”

Daichi drags him close then, hands braced around each wrist, mouth curled into a devilish smile. “You will be.”

Suga curses, falling into Daichi as he finally rewards Suga with his mouth, tongue tracing the roof of his mouth in flat strokes. He knows it always drives Suga wild. 

Daichi is backing them towards the locker room and Suga stumbles trying to follow him, huffing an annoyed sigh into his mouth before he hops a little and wraps his legs around Daichi’s waist. Searing hands catch his thighs, holding him up easily and Suga groans between their lips. 

Daichi reaches the locker room door with a thud, fumbling behind them for the handle, and Suga releases him to press open-mouthed kisses across his jaw, dipping down to his neck with breathless laughter. He’s pleased by the mark blooming across Daichi’s darker skin.

The door swings open with a swish and Daichi backs up until his knees hit a bench. He drags Suga down with him, hands skimming over exposed skin and running up the flowing fabric of his skirt.

Suga pants into his shoulder, arching into the touch. “Daichi.” He continues like that for a moment, spilling into the warm touch and repeating Daichi’s name like a prayer. “Daichi, please. No more teasing.”

Daichi’s fingers grip tighter, teeth nipping at his shoulder fondly. “Oh? Then what were you doing during practice?”

Suga’s heart flutters in his chest, fingers grasping blindly in the dim room for any part of Daichi he can reach. “Guilty. Now touch me.”

Daichi growls low in his throat, hands pressing bruises into his hips. “Be patient or your punishment will be worse.”

Suga laughs softly, noise catching in his throat as Daichi attacks his neck. “Then punish me.”

Daichi’s eyes darken at the whine in his voice. “Turn around and bend over my knee, pretty thing.”

Suga turns so fast his head spins, cheeks flushing slightly at his position. Daichi flips up his skirt and the air is cold against his ass but Daichi soothingly rubs the chill away.

“How many do you think you deserve?”

Suga looks over his shoulder, batting his eyelashes. “How ever many you’ll give me?”

Daichi raises an eyebrow, nearly exasperated. “It’s not a punishment if you enjoy it.”

Suga smiles widely, “I promise I’ll hate it.”

Daichi’s hand cracks across his ass in warning. “Behave. How many?”

Suga hums, sinking further over Daichi’s lap. “I don’t know, Dai. Twenty? More? I don’t mind.”

Daichi sighs, lifting his knee until Suga unbalances, slipping down until he’s almost touching the floor. His breath fogs up a few inches of the shiny floor when he breathes out.

“How about I stop when you cry.”

Suga chokes out a whine, high in his throat like a note. It hangs in the air for a second before he whispers. “Please.”

The first swing cracks across the round of his ass, mild and soft compared to what Suga’s used to. He knows they’ll get more intense.

Daichi doesn’t space the next few hits, slamming his hand down on the thickest part of Suga’s ass in quick succession. The air settled in his lungs leaves in one exhale.

Daichi puts in more force into five six and seven, spacing them out so that Suga’s entire ass starts stinging, hot and pulsing in time with his unsteady heartbeat.

By the thirteenth swing of his hand Suga is squirming, caught between pushing his ass back into Daichi’s hand, bucking his hips into the thighs beneath him, or wiggling out of the ironclad hold altogether. 

Somewhere in the twenties Suga loses count along with all control over the desperate noises falling out of his mouth.

His hips roll into Daichi’s thighs, aching to relieve the pressure building between his legs. Daichi’s hand stills, landing on his hip in warning. 

“Suga.”

Suga’s head falls limp, chest heaving to regain his composure.

“Your colour?”

Suga shakes his head, reaching for the hem of Daichi’s sports shorts. He repeats the word green like a mantra.

Suga holds out until somewhere past thirty. Maybe the beginning of forty. He’s almost impressed, or would be if Daichi didn’t hit the sensitive skin of his sit-spots and make him cry out. He’s leaking into the silky material of Daichi’s shorts and his eyes started to water a few hits back.

He sniffles, just once, and Daichi stops, hauling Suga up gently to peer at his face. He cups the wet of his cheek, dragging a thumb through his streaming tears.

“Are you sorry?”

Suga hiccups through another breath, blinking at Daichi with wet lashes. “No. I’d do it again.”

Daichi growls out an ‘of course you would’ before pulling him into a blinding kiss. Suga whimpers into his mouth as he’s hauled onto Daichi’s lap on his sensitive ass.

“Dai, please.”

Daichi hums against his throat, tongue licking broad stripes and leaving the wet trails to cool in the air.

“Please, what?”

Suga squirms in his lap, pouting. “Dai! Come on.”

His fingers curl into Daichi’s jersey, clinging, trying to pull him closer with trembling hands.

“What do you want? Use your words, Suga.”

Suga grinds into Daichi’s crotch delicately, hissing when the material of his shorts rubs against his ass. “Oh my god, Daichi, just fuck me.”

Daichi chuckles against his cheek, pressing soft kisses to his ear before whispering under his breath. “If you insist.”

Suga is swept into a whirlwind of sensation and motion, trapped beneath Daichi’s powerful hands and warm mouth. They end up on the floor in a tangle of limbs and soft noises, clinging to one another like twin lifelines.

Daichi’s fingers leave for a moment and Suga shivers in their absence. He returns with a devilish grin, a small bottle in his hand.

Suga eyes the item and a smile breaks over his face. “I’m so in love with you.”

Daichi clicks off the cap, tugging Suga closer between his knees. “Here.”

The bottle is placed in his palm and Suga stares at it for a second until it clicks. His cheeks heat up, but his grin widens. 

Suga stands for a second to slip off the shorts under his skirt. He kicks them off from his ankle, laughing when they smack against Daichi’s chest.

He kneels back down, a few feet from Daichi, sitting on his heels as he coats his fingers. Daichi watches him hungrily as his hand disappears beneath his skirt.

“Ah, ah, Koushi, no hiding.”

Suga blinks rapidly, locking eyes with Daichi as he slowly hikes the skirt further up his waist, exposing inch after inch of skin to a hungry gaze.

“You wanna watch, Dai? Want to see me stretch myself open for your cock?”

Daichi groans, eyes sliding shut before pinning Suga in place.

“Yes. So hurry up, little minx.”

Suga trails his fingers back, spreading his knees wider and lifting up another inch to make sure Daichi can see when the first finger slips in. 

“Watch me, Dai. Don’t look away.”

Suga sinks back, air fluttering out of his mouth. 

Daichi draws a knee up to his chest, draping his arm across to rest his chin on and watch Suga with intensity. “As if I could look away from you ever. Especially like this, dressed up so nicely, flushed and panting and needy. Show me how badly you want it, Suga.”

Suga’s hips skip at his words, jerking instinctively along with the flare of heat in his gut. His finger slips in further with the movement and a soft moan leaves his mouth.

“Hm. Just like that, beautiful.”

Suga continues, spurred on by Daichi’s whispered praises. He works in another finger, amazed by how silent the room is aside from his ragged breathing and the wet squelch of lube.

“Shit. Okay, that’s it, get over here.”

Daichi’s arm whips out, circling around Suga’s waist to spin him around and pull his back into Daichi’s chest.

“Keep that up, just a bit more.”

Suga’s arm is pressed between his back and Daichi’s chest, but he’s eager to comply, pushing his fingers up as his hips try feebly to ride them. 

“Look at you. So pretty like this, so desperate.”

Suga shoves in a third finger, rocking back into his own touch and Daichi’s warmth. The hot trail of kisses painted across his neck only spur him on.

Suga pulls his fingers out with impatience when he rocks back and feels how hard Daichi is. 

“M’ done, hurry up and fuck me.”

Daichi pulls him into his chest, half on top of his lap so Suga’s rolling hips end up pressing against his dick rhythmically.

“Shit, beautiful.” Daichi nips at the skin behind his ear, hot breath washing over him and making him shiver. “You’re gonna drive me nuts.”

Suga pushes down, more insistent. “How do you think I feel?” His snarky words are softened by his panting.

Daichi chuckles but his hands slide up Suga’s thighs to rest at his hips, stilling their movement. Suga is lifted a few inches, hovering in the air when Daichi’s hands leave to push down the only layer separating them. 

Daichi pulls him back down and Suga sighs at the contact. He slides back, spreading his knees wider so his ass slips along the length of Daichi’s dick, smearing them both with the lube. The fingers on his hips tighten hard enough that he knows they’ll leave bruises in the shape of Daichi’s hands.

Suga slides forward just enough that the tip of Daichi’s dick presses against his entrance. The sensation makes him pause, eyes fluttering closed as he presses down, as if he can force it in at this angle.

Daichi’s left hand moves up his side, curving around to slide along his spine, making Suga shiver. Fingers skip over his shoulder blades, smoothing across his shoulder to stop at his throat. They curl there, just present enough for Suga’s breath to hitch in excitement.

“Dai-” Suga’s voice is embarrassingly broken. “Dai, please, please, pl-.”

“Sh.” Daichi whispers against his ear, fingers caressing. “I’ll take care of you, Koushi. I always do.”

Daichi’s free hand slips down, skimming under Suga’s skirt in a teasingly slow manner. Fingertips drag through the slick dripping between his thighs and Suga hums out a whine. 

Suga’s chest heaves, hitching when Daichi shoves two fingers in suddenly. Suga loves his fingers, thicker than his own and impossibly long, always able to reach places Suga can’t on his own.

His cheeks are still damp from earlier, but the impatience thrumming through him at being denied what he wants brings fresh tears to his eyes, clinging wetly to his lashes until they’re thick and sparkling, threatening to spill over the flush high on his cheeks.

Suga nearly sobs when Daichi withdraws his fingers, after several torturous minutes of stretching Suga further. 

Daichi returns, lining himself up to press at Suga’s ass. Despite being fucked open by his own fingers and Daichi’s, the head of his dick meets resistance, as it always does. Suga likes it that way, the burn and the eventual give. 

He shudders, hips pushing back as he folds into himself, melting at the feeling of being filled inside. Daichi is the perfect fit for him, pressing into every inch of space he has until he’s filled to the brim with nothing but Daichi.

Daichi clicks his tongue in reprimand, hand shifting up the back of his neck to curl in the hair at the nape of Suga’s neck, tugging until he straightens, spine arching to accommodate the fist in his hair.

Daichi’s name spills out of Suga’s mouth between hiccuped moans, swirling in the air like smoke. Daichi responds with a condescending coo, just how he knows Suga likes.

Suga can’t do much more than grind on Daichi’s dick, thighs shaking as he tries to pull up enough to set a rhythm. How Daichi loves to make him work for it.

“Come on, Dai, let me move.”

Daichi’s fingers shift in his hair, massaging into his scalp in a soothing manner. “Not yet. I like watching you struggle after the little stunt you pulled.”

Suga’s mouth dips into a pout, hips jumping the fraction Daichi let’s them. “Come on Dai, let me make you feel good, handsome. I’ll be so good for you.” His voice dips into a sugared velvet purr. “Come on Dai. Please.”

Daichi presses a kiss to his cheek, fingers slipping out of his hair to rest at his hip. “Since you asked so nicely.”

The hands at his hips still control his pace, but Suga is finally able to raise the few inches needed to drop down on Daichi’s dick. The sudden pressure inside pulls a pathetic groan from his mouth.

He’s mumbling something about how good it feels, how much he loves Daichi, how happy he is, reveling in the fond chuckle Daichi rumbles against his back.

Suga is in bliss, sinking onto Daichi with little noises he can’t control, head tilted back against his shoulder and eyes squeezing shut to drown in the sensations. The hem of his crop top shifts and all at once it’s pushed up, startling him with the rush of colder air. Daichi wastes no time in honing in on his nipples, bending down to secure one in his mouth while idle fingers catch the other.

“D-Dai.” He stutters, caught between Daichi’s skilled mouth, clever fingers and powerful thrusts. 

“Hmm?” The noise is hummed against his chest and Suga shivers.

“Feels-” He sucks in a breath. “It’s good- so good.”

Daichi skims his teeth across his nipple before pulling back to admire the pink nub slick with spit. He licks his lips while Suga watches, leaning in slightly.

“You feeling good?”

Suga’s eyes roll back for a second as Daichi thrusts up, snapping his hips with a force that rattles Suga so hard his thoughts tumble out of his mind like scattered marbles.

His responding noise is more of a wet gurgle, choked out as he pants from how intensely Daichi is fucking up into him.

“Sawamura!”

That’s the final straw for Daichi, the signal that he’s pressed every single one of Suga’s buttons in the right order. Suga is pulled up, one leg slung to the side and the other held in Daichi’s hand as he fucks into Suga like a feral animal. 

This is the side of Daichi that he craves, that he desperately tries to pull out by any means: like parading around in a cheerleading outfit during their practice.

Suga is crying again, fat tears spilling down his cheeks in a blanket of wet. Tear-stained cheeks, spit-coated mouth, slick-sticky thighs. He must look a total mess, but Daichi is staring at him like he’s a banquet set before a starving man. Suga would beg Daichi to eat him if it means he continues to look at him like that.

It doesn’t take long for the new position to bring him hurtling to his peak, with Daichi slamming into his sweet spot with every upward stroke, hands gripping his thighs so hard the soft skin moulds beneath them, and the sheer indecency of the entire situation. 

Suga’s mind snags on the last thought, circling around the fact that they're fucking in their club’s locker room. In theory anyone could walk in and see them, and the idea sends a bolt of pleasure-based heat to his core. His dick jumps with the wave of arousal and he’s surely tightened around Daichi as well.

“I felt that. What are you thinking about? Probably something naughty, if I know you at all.”

Suga strumbles to twist the thought into coherency and answer through his panting. “I. Yeah, shit. Was thinking- hhn- if someone. “ Suga is cut off by his own moan, whimpering into the quiet of the room, broken only by the wet slide of skin against skin.

Daichi’s lips brush against his throat, rising to his ear. “Thinking of being caught?”

Suga’s hips jerk on their own, confirmation enough. “Yes, oh my god.”

Daichi is chuckling again, just as fond as ever. “Like I thought. Naughty.”

Suga hardly registers the words, world shrinking to the heat building in his gut, spreading like a wildfire. It’s all consuming, a pleasure so white-hot it borders on pain, thrumming through him as he stills, taught as a bowstring. The string snaps and the fire blazes, roaring through him until he thinks he must by burning along with it.

His orgasm pulls back from the edges slowly, heat returning to his core until the only thing left is the small aftershocks that hit him. Daichi is close behind him, he can tell by the sound of his breathing and the stuttered lack of rhythm. Suga is pleased to find he’s right, jerking with a particularly strong aftershock as Daichi spills inside him, pushing a wet heat further inside him than he feels on his own.

They come down from their respective highs together, leaning against one another as their breathing returns to normal and the sheen of sweat on their bodies begins to cool.

Daichi kisses his temple softly, rubbing his hip as he eases out, slow and gentle. Suga shivers slightly at the resulting rush of cum flooding out of his ass. Sometimes he wishes he wouldn’t come so early, just so he could orgasm from the feeling of Daichi filling him up and having the warm cum seep down his thighs afterwards.

He turns his head to the side, or more accurately he flops his head to the side until it smooshes against Daichi’s shoulder. He presses a kiss to the tan skin that greets him, humming a content sigh.

“I love you, Dai.”

Daichi tucks his face into Suga’s hair, presumably blushing. “I love you too, Koushi.”

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote most of this at my family dinner table, surrounded by my homophobic family as we played a board game and i'd do it again


End file.
